


A Memory of Stars

by eponymous_rose



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-12
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:06:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eponymous_rose/pseuds/eponymous_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kira Nerys watches the stars. Episode tag for 1x13: "Battle Lines".</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Memory of Stars

Nerys had never really understood what some people saw in the stars.

She'd known men and women who'd done the most terrible things, who'd witnessed atrocities, who'd suffered so horribly, and still they'd looked up on a clear night, and in the tiny glimmers of light, they'd found peace. Every time she'd tried it, she'd only found worry and fear and dread. If this violence could happen in their own homes, what new terrors would be waiting out there?

Now she stood at one of the observation windows on the second level of the darkened Promenade, staring out at where she knew the wormhole was waiting, and even that fear seemed lost to her. Opaka was out there, close enough that she could hear the rustle of cloth and smell the clinging scent of incense, and still she was entirely out of reach. Nerys stifled a smile, because it felt ugly, twisted, and she tried not to think about how maybe they were all grasping for something that only seemed close, reaching for something impossibly far away because memory tricked the mind...

There was a sound behind her, and she turned, wanting to make it a sharp, commanding motion, too numb to completely pull it off. Just as well that she hadn't; Commander Sisko's boy was standing behind her, looking scared half out of his wits.

"Hi," he said, his voice ringing loud in the silent Promenade. He winced, glancing over his shoulder, obviously keen to leave but held back by some sort of politeness. Nerys smiled in spite of herself. The kid was a Starfleeter at heart. "I'm sorry, uh, Major. I don't-" He seemed to pull himself together, and managed a bit of a goofy smile that was so unlike his father that Nerys was taken aback momentarily. "I guess I really shouldn't be here, huh?"

Nerys made a show of staring up and down the darkened walkways, surreally quiet in the station's night. "Well, I don't have to ask the computer for the time – I suspect your father wouldn't be particularly thrilled that you're roaming the station at this hour."

Jake shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Besides, there's a transport due through the wormhole at 0200." He squared his shoulders, and there was a hint of stubbornness that she was pretty sure she recognized. "I thought I'd watch."

She watched him for a moment, feeling the tug of a smile at the corner of her mouth, something a bit more genuine. "How do you know the transport schedules?"

He flushed and looked down at his feet, every trace of adolescent bravado dissipated. "I should- I should just go back to my quarters." He looked up, wringing his hands. "Please don't tell Dad I was here. He's got enough to worry about."

"Yeah," Nerys said, "I guess he does." She waited until he'd started to turn away, then said, "Why are you really here, Jake?"

He froze, and for a second she thought he'd bolt, but he only took a deep breath and turned around. "I was dreaming about Mom," he said, and his voice was strangely level, dispassionate.

Nerys just looked at him for a long moment, then took a step closer, because she understood this, she knew what this was, she'd seen so many children who'd lost parents, so many angry, almost-brave faces, so many times when the only thing in the universe that could make it better was knowing there was someone else out there who understood. She touched his shoulder, felt him shivering, and after a moment he looked up at her, and she could see tears in his eyes.

"Hey," she said, quietly, conspiratorially, "I hear there's a transport going through the wormhole soon. I won't tell your dad if you want to watch."

A faint smile crossed his face, almost disbelieving, and Nerys wondered what kinds of stories he'd been hearing about her – probably from Nog – that had made him so wary. "Okay," he said, and moved to stand beside her, staring determinedly out at the stars.

He was, she realized, searching for the same kind of peace she was.

"I heard about what happened to the kai," he said, after a moment, and when she turned to look at him, he shifted his gaze to his shoes. His words came faster, tripping over each other. "Dad said she couldn't come back through the wormhole. I'm sorry. I know she meant a lot to everyone. Mrs. O'Brien is cancelling school for a few days so the Bajoran kids can spend time with their families."

Nerys looked away, out at the meaningless vista of stars. "That's a nice gesture."

"Yeah." Jake shifted his weight. "I think everyone feels like they should be doing something."

Nerys didn't say anything, but she remembered the look in Opaka's eyes as they'd transported away, the calm, serene confidence, the knowledge that what she was doing was right. Who was she to argue with that?

"It's really beautiful," Jake said. "The wormhole. Sometimes Nog and I just sit here for hours, just watching, even if there's nothing scheduled to come through, just in case."

Nerys couldn't picture the two boys keeping their minds on a single thing that long, but she recognized that Jake was trying to seem more grown-up – was trying, in his own way, to comfort her. "What do you see when the wormhole opens?" she asked, and the question surprised her, because she hadn't even realized she'd been wanting to ask it.

Jake didn't hesitate. "I don't know," he said. "But whatever it is, it makes me feel better just knowing there's something so- so weird and beautiful out there. Something that even confuses Dax. Something that made Dad happy again."

And just like that, the wormhole yawned open, and Nerys found herself looking at it as she knew Opaka must have seen it, as a path, a doorway, a new opening into something that she didn't understand, that she'd never understand. And that was right, the not-knowing, that was important-

It only took seconds for the wormhole to close, and then there was nothing but the stars and the distant planets and moons that encircled them. Nerys was smiling, and when she looked down, she saw that Jake was smiling, too.

"That's the part I like best," he said, and there was a childish eagerness in his eyes. "When it closes, and you can't see it anymore, but you still know it's out there. You remember."

"That's right," Nerys said, softly. "You remember."

They stood in silence and watched the stars, as the station slept, as a new day flickered slowly to life, as the past drifted away piece by piece to rest in memory.


End file.
